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Constance wakes up to find herself in a strange place on a cold cement floor with shackles tightly latched around her elbows, ankles and wrists. Also another shackle is connecting them all making her stay in a hogtied bound position. Her mouth is stuffed with a hard plastic ballgag that doesn’t allow her to suck up the drool but instead drips on the floor when her face is looking down and in desperation. She moans and groans as she tests her unforgiving metal binds. She rolls and struggles the best she can crying as you can here she is in a very empty room as her mmpphs for help echoes. I come in ensuring she knows she is not going anywhere for a long while. She is not happy about that but I am ecstatic to have her as my helpless little damsel in my cold desolate basement.